Charlie and Harry
by PinkSakuraPetals
Summary: 100 oneshots about Charlie Weasley and Harry Potter. Slash in most chapters.
1. Beginnings

001.

Beginnings

Harry watched as Charlie and a couple of his dragon-wrangling buddies approached the tower. The red head was obviously at home on a broom.

"Hey, there. You must be Harry, right? Nice to meet you." The second-eldest Weasley boy held out a hand encased in leather. "Name's Charlie. That the troublemaker over there?" Charlie was looking over at the baby dragon.

"Yeah, that's Norbert. Hagrid's sad he has to go, but he wanted me to let you know he thanks you for taking him."

"No problem, no problem. Dragons are my business after all." The other wranglers started running ropes around the kennel Norbert was ensconced in, jabbering back and forth in Romanian. Charlie broke out in a bright smile. "Say, I heard you made seeker! The youngest in a century. If I was any less of a man, I'd be jealous of you outdoing me on the pitch."

Harry looked up at him. "You were a seeker?"

"Yep. From second year on. McGonagall swore I was the reincarnation of James Potter." Charlie looked stricken for a moment. "Not to say that you're Pa wasn't a great seeker as well! He managed to win the House Cup for Gryffindor six years in a row. We only got the House Cup once."

"Charlie! We are ready to be leaving now!" The rest of the group was already on their brooms, Norbert secured between them. Charlie turned back to Harry.

"I need to be going, it seems. It was nice meeting you Harry." Charlie landed a friendly punch on Harry's shoulder. "You make sure to do well on the pitch, you hear me? The reputation of Gryffindor and the title of seeker is resting on you. Don't let us down." The red-head straddled his broom. "Give my regards to Ron, won't you?"

Harry watched as the group took off, a smile on his face.


	2. Middles

002.

Middles

Harry's life was categorized by extremes. His childhood was at the low end of standards. According to Professor Dumbledore, his magic was stronger than a normal eleven-year-old's. His fame outshone athletes and musicians. Cheesy comparisons had his hair darker than a raven's wing, his eyes brighter, greener than emeralds, and his innocence purer than a unicorn's.

Harry looked up into Charlie's freckled, sun-tanned, smiling face. Harry came to the middle of his chest, neither shorter nor taller than any other eleven-year-old. Middle ground in a world of extremes.

Harry smiled back.


	3. Ends

003.

Ends

Harry sipped at his pumpkin juice and watched the ends of Bill's ponytail swing back and forth against his back. He imagined that Mrs. Weasley was inside having kittens at the length. It was nearly three inches longer than the last time Bill had visited The Burrow.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Charlie come out into the yard, levitating a table behind him. It was Spring Cleaning at The Burrow and everything was getting aired out. Harry's eyes followed the leather tassels on the bottom of Charlie's new vest. Small breezes lifted them as they danced side to side in time to the red-head's swinging gait.

The tassels reminded him of a picture he'd once seen of American flapper girls from the twenties. The tassels had made their dancing as enticing as Charlie's steps were right now. Charlie looked over at him and winked, adding a bit more hip into his walk to make the tassels jump.

Harry swore he heard beads rustling and an upbeat Charleston.


	4. Insides

004.

Insides

Harry grimaced as he dug his scalpel into the soft underbelly of the fetal dragon in front of him. Drained of blood and filled with preservatives, the little body was rather squishy. Intestines fell onto the table.

He wondered what Charlie would say if he knew what the newest DADA professor had on his curriculum.


	5. Outsides

005.

Outsides

"How can you be so calm right now?" Charlie had asked him.

Harry hesitated in speaking the truth, that he'd had a cupboard under the stairs as a bedroom for the first eleven years of his life. He'd worked so hard to build his outward appearance of semi-normalcy in spite of his obvious oddities.

The two of them had been investigating this cave, trying to figure out why the dragons refused to use it. Harry had jumped at the chance to do something easy for once, the grueling task of taking care of dragons not what he had in mind for a vacation. The large boulders in the ceiling had collapsed behind them, cutting them off from the outside world.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not afraid of the dark, there's plenty of air sneaking through the gaps in the boulders, and, while I know that help is six feet away, it will take a while for them to get through. That gives us plenty of time alone."

Charlie must have liked that thought, because his hands were suddenly on him, brushing everywhere as quickly as possible.


	6. Hours

006.

Hours

Charlie watched Ron's friend (no matter how many times the kid said they weren't) nervously pace the inside of the tent. It had been just hours ago that the boy had found out their first task was to steal an egg from a dragon. Charlie loved dragons, was comfortable around them, but knew that the ones they'd brought from the reserve had the nastiest tempers. Even he'd hesitate to threaten their eggs.

Harry performed excellently out in the pit, showing off the flying skills he was born into. If Charlie had been his father, he knew he'd have been insanely proud. As it was, he could appreciate the way the fourteen-year-old's lithe muscles had flexed and relaxed as he twisted around the pit. Charlie only wished he could have seen the boy weave through the spires and towers of Hogwarts.

It would be a few hours to get the dragons sedated and sent off with his fellow handlers, but then he'd have time to pop over to Gryffindor Tower and join in the festivities that were sure to last into the wee hours of the morning.


	7. Days

007.

Days

"I don't want to leave."

Charlie looked over at Harry. The boy had certainly grown into a tall sixteen-year-old. "Your sixth year is starting in a few days. School is important."

The two of them sat on the edge of a cliff, watching a few female Ridgebacks take care of a nursery of about eighteen babies. Only a few days old, they were already trying to start the trees on fire.

"I wish Professor Dumbledore had granted me more than eight days here. Even with all the dragons around here it's more peaceful than at the Dursley's."

Charlie wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, his hand resting on his thigh. In a couple of days the boy would floo to the Burrow, then take the Hogwarts Express the next morning. He was determined to enjoy this last bit of time they had left.

His hand pulled Harry closer.


	8. Weeks

008.

Weeks

The last week of school. Harry marked another square off of his calendar. One more week, then there'd only be three miserable weeks at the Dursley's between him and the rest of the Summer with Charlie at the dragon reserve.

He'd gotten permission from Professor Dumbledore (his heart clenched to think about the late Headmaster) to go to the reserve three months ago, Harry had kept a calendar to count down to the last day of his confinement at his relatives.

Harry could hardly contain his excitement. Eight weeks (instead of eight days) with Charlie in the middle of Romania, away from his 'fans'.


	9. Months

009.

Months

Charlie groaned as he watched the girls from the local hamlet increase the tempo of their dancing. It was Midsummer's Eve, a time to celebrate (but not to be celibate). It had been months since he'd had a good lay, male or female, and the sight of bouncing breasts and wiggling hips were not helping matters.

He snuck a look over at Harry, taking in the boy's excited smile. The kid had so much energy he was practically vibrating. Looking at the bottle in his hand, Charlie knew why. Firewhiskey, Romanian style.

"Hey, Harry. Let's get you someplace quiet to help you work that whiskey out of your system. Your head's going to be hurting as it is tomorrow." The black-haired boy nearly leapt off of the stump he was sitting on, his feet tapping to the beat of the music as he followed trustingly behind Charlie.

Charlie hardly cared if anyone saw Harry and him take off. They were all pissed as it was and wouldn't remember it anyway come morning - Harry included.

Besides, Charlie hadn't gotten any in months.


	10. Years

010.

Years

Harry gazed up at the imposing sight of Hogwarts. It was his last year. Charlie had told him it wasn't that bad, the professors didn't pile nearly as much homework on the seventh years before their NEWTS as they did the fifth year OWLS. Harry had tried explaining that to Hermione, but the girl had given him the evil eye and he didn't want to push his luck.

"Hey, mate, you ready?" Ron's gangly frame sidled up beside him. He jerked his head toward the school. "We've managed to survive six years within her walls, think we can make it once more?"

"Honestly, Ron, it's a school, not a gauntlet. If you'd actually opened your books once in a while you wouldn't find it so hard." Hermione pulled her nose out of one of her textbooks long enough to roll her eyes at the both of them.

"Mione, we've had our lives on the line each year. How does that have anything to do with homework?"

Harry smiled as he watched his friends argue back and forth. Sooner or later, they'd figure out just what was between them, and then the years ahead of them were going to be glorious.


	11. Red

011.

Red

Charlie's breath caught as he watched the Gryffindor quidditch team race around the pitch. Their scarlet red uniforms whipped in the wind as they passed by their fellow housemates in the stands. Charlie thought that the red complimented Harry's dark hair well. Roaring cheers went up in the Gryffindor section, as well as in Ravenclaw. Slytherin had beaten their team, so their support went toward anyone but them. Hufflepuff cheered as well, but then again, they cheered for everyone.

As the game progressed, he watched the Seeker wind through players and dodge bludgers. Dark hair, unruly even when wet, was pressed down from the force of the wind. The Gryffindor Keeper blocked a shot made by the green-clad team and one of the Beaters, Charlie couldn't tell if it was Fred or George, walloped the bludger at the Draco Malfoy. The Seeker swerved to avoid it and lost sight of the snitch.

Charlie found Harry again, admiring the way he maneuvered his Nimbus 2000 as if it was an extension of himself. In all the years that Charlie had played, he'd only managed to fly like that in his seventh year. Suddenly, the light glinted off Harry's glasses as he snapped his head down and to the right. The boy had seen the snitch. Like a shot, the lithe Seeker raced toward the golden ball, his eyes locked on it as well as Draco's and Charlie's. He flew nearly vertical until he was about three meters from the ground and twisted violently, sending him into a corkscrew and startling Draco as he followed the snitch across the pitch.

A roar rose from three fourths of the stands as Harry held up his arm, the tiny ball clasped in his fingers. Charlie was sure his throat would be raw the next day from all the screaming he was doing. He followed the team into the locker room, close behind his brother Ron and Hermione, the girl the had accompanied Harry to the Astronomy Tower last year.

"Harry! Bloody hell, mate, that was an awesome catch!" Ron mock punched the dark haired boy in the arm.

"Thanks Ron. Hi, Hermione. Did you enjoy the game?" Harry pulled off the red robe to expose a white undershirt.

"You were wonderful out there Harry." Here, the girl shook a finger at him. "Don't you ever do a stunt like that again, you hear me? I feel like I've lost ten years off of my life!"

Both boys rolled their eyes and responded in tandem. "Yes, mother."

Charlie stepped forward and Harry caught sight of him. "Hello, Charlie! I didn't know you were going to be here! Did you see me out there?"

Ron rushed forward for a hug as Charlie answered. "I sure did! Best flying I've seen in years…not counting myself of course. Hey there, Ron."

Harry's eyes lit up at the compliment and Charlie made a note to give him others.


	12. Orange

012.

Orange

Harry wasn't quite sure what to call it. Carrot came to mind, but it wasn't that intense. It took on a brownish hue occasionally, like during their quidditch games in the backyard of The Burrow. Ron's and Fred's and George's looked like mud afterwards, but Charlie's managed a nice burnt sienna tone. 

The wind lifted it off Charlie's head and the sunlight filtering through it turned it rather peachy. Shadows turned it into a raw umber. It was some tint or shade or hue of orange, but labeling it wasn't important.

Harry liked Charlie's hair no matter what color it was. 


	13. Yellow

013.

Yellow

Charlie regarded the quivering box in front of him. There were small holes in the thin walls, but he couldn't see what was inside. "Harry, when you wrote me saying that Hagrid found another injured magical creature, you never did say what it was." He shot a nervous glance at the younger Gryffindor next to him. "It's not a Red Cap, is it?"

Harry smile sadly over at Charlie for a moment. It was plausible for Hagrid to have gotten his hands on a Red Cap, after all. The battle between Light and Dark, Good and Evil, the Order and the Deatheaters, Potter and Voldemort, or even The-Boy-Who-Lived versus He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was a large enough battle to attract all sorts of blood, war, and death loving creatures from as far away as Denmark.

"I wouldn't put it past Hagrid to have one hidden somewhere in his hut, but that's not what's in the box. The red-head hesitated. "Come on then, open it. I promise it's nothing that can kill you."

Charlie pried the lid off slowly, lifting on corner in order to see inside. The lid was discarded quickly when the contents were revealed. A small Snidget lay in a bed of linen fibers, frayed until they were soft and supportive. A bandage wound around one wing, the injury being made to heal naturally because of laws prohibiting the use of any sort of magic on the nearly extinct, yellow feathered bird.

Charlie was entranced. He'd only heard stories and seen badly drawn illustrations of the little bird, never out in the wild.

"Hagrid wanted to name her Norbert Jr., but we convinced him that L'or would be a better name for her." Harry laughed as the Snidget nibbled on the end of the finger Charlie poked into the box. "That's her way of saying hello."

Charlie grinned up at the black-haired boy next to him. "How do you think my parents would take it if I stuck the box under their noses and said "Hey, Mum, look what I found! Can I keep it?""

The two Gryffindors laughed while the little yellow bird in the box warbled happily.


	14. Green

014.

Green

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry pulled the sorting hat off of his head slowly, his eyes already turning toward the table farthest from his first friend. Glares stared back at him and he gulped quietly.

* * *

"Ron! Hey, Ron!"

The red-headed boy turned and waited for him, his fingers fidgeting with a frayed sleeve. Harry smiled brightly at him.

"Hi Ron! How'd your morning classes go? You better watch out for Binns this afternoon, he's got the play-by-play of the negotiations between Ragnaff, the Goblin King of Snuzzlebergen, and Daneel, the Supreme Monarch of the Sprites stuck in his head again. Honestly, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the world ended in sixteen-ninety-two."

Ron managed to pull the stitching in his cuff completely off and was working on the other one. "Look, Harry,…err…"

Harry looked up at the taller boy. "What is it Ron?"

The red head cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, we've been friends for three years now, right?" At Harry's nod, he continued. "I've noticed that, in the three years that I've known you, Hermione is the only other friend I have. You don't seem to have any friends in Slytherin, either."

"Where are you going with this?"

Ron looked even more uncomfortable. "It's not like I don't like you, because I do, but the only reason the other Gryffindors won't talk to me is because I'm friends with a Slytherin. Even though you're the Boy-Who-Lived, Gryffindors and Slytherins will never like each other." Ron avoided looking into Harry's eye. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I've got to stop talking to you." The taller boy stalked down the hall, leaving Harry adrift in the crowds of other students milling about between classes.

"I see."

* * *

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry looked up from his textbook at the sound of his name. The whole hall was staring at him and Dumbledore was holding a scorched piece of parchment in his fingers. The man did NOT look happy.

"Mister Potter, please follow the other champions into the teachers' lounge. Everyone else is dismissed."

Harry dog-eared the page he was on and weaved through the students who had yet to leave. Everyone's eyes were on him and it was making him nervous. Did he have something on his face? In the teachers' lounge, the girl from Beauxbatons and the boy from Durmstrang were talking quietly with their headmasters and Cedric Diggory was speaking with Professor Sprout. Everyone looked up at his entrance and the French girl stepped forward.

"Are zey asking for us to return to ze Great Hall?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer her, but the door slammed open behind him and Dumbledore rushed in.

"Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?!" The old man was frantic and pinned him with his light blue eyes. "Did you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. The age line would have kept me from making it to the Goblet, remember?" He watched as the heads of the school argued about his eligibility for being a school Champion. Harry sat down in one of the plush leather chairs of the teacher's lounge and flipped his textbook open once more. He was in the middle of reading about a very interesting theory about the use of Boomslang Skin to make potions that were much more permanent than the Polyjuice.

* * *

Harry peered through the thick foliage of the Forbidden Forest into the clearing that Hagrid had brought Cedric Diggory. There were four large, very angry dragons in front of him; all restrained with chains that Harry assumed were magically reinforced. The leader of the group of wizards firing spells at the angry creatures reminded him of Ro- the Weasleys in Gryffindor. His hair was the trademark red, though his was a bit lighter from exposure to the sun. Harry backed away slowly from the clearing, his mind already racing on what he would have to do in the first task that involved dragons and how he could prepare for it.

* * *

"You did pretty well out there. You must play quidditch for your house."

Harry looked up to see a tall red-head standing in the doorway of the medic tent. He recognized him as the same man who was in the clearing with the dragons last week.

"Thank you. I play seeker for Slytherin." The man's eyes widened and Harry braced himself for the barrage of insults that were sure to come from a former Gryffindor.

"Really, a seeker? Well, that certainly helps my theory of dragon handling." At Harry's confused look, the man elaborated. "Seekers are built smaller, able to maneuver in tight spaces, and react quickly to their environment. Perfect for working with dragons. You interested?"

Harry blinked. Opened his mouth. Shut again. Blinked again. "What?"

"Yeah, it'd be great! Two seekers working at the sanctuary would make things move a lot smoother. Plus, we could have snitch catching competitions during our down time!"

Bewildered, Harry shook his head. "Sorry, not interested. I really must go now."

The man nodded. "Sure, sure. Well, if you change your mind, just write and I can get you all set up before you even graduate!" Here, the red-head slapped his forehead. "Blimey! I haven't even introduced myself!" He held out a hand enthusiastically. "Name's Charlie Weasley, second oldest of the brood, but by far the cutest."

Harry took his hand and nearly had his arm shaken off. "Harry Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you." To his surprise, Charlie didn't even twitch at his name.

"Pleasure's all mine. Remember, if you change your mind, I'm all ears." Charlie stepped out of the tent, leaving Harry in solitude with only the muffled sound of the crowds outside.

* * *

Charlie rubbed at his hair viciously with a towel, drying it as much as he could with friction alone. His walk to the canteen on the other end of the camp was cut short when he caught sight of the teen in front of him, sitting on a school trunk and an empty owl cage at his feet.

"Harry?"

The teen looked up with a hard to read look in his eyes. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That I could come work with you here at the sanctuary."

Charlie stammered out a reply. "W-Well yes, but I meant for you to finish school first." He paused. "Wait, how did you even get here?"

Harry held up a pamphlet. "I took the international night bus. I took a polyjuice potion to look like one of the seventh year Slytherins and bought a ticket."

"You took a bus all the way from England?"

"Well, no. First I took a muggle ferry across the Channel to France so there wouldn't be a chance of someone managing to track me. The bus driver would only take me as far as Slovenia because I hadn't taken out enough money to pay the whole way, but he did tell me to look into finding muggle farmers that would be willing to take me for as long as they were going my way. Since your camp is so deep into the Romanian mountains, I've been walking and climbing for the last week and a half."

"Why didn't you use your broom?"

Harry looked non-plussed. "I hadn't thought of that."

Charlie sighed and rifled a hand through his damp hair. "Harry, won't your family be worried about you? Why did you come out here now instead of graduating?"

The black-haired teen looked down at his scuffed trainers. "I left my relatives a note telling them not to worry. They don't really care much for magic so they won't waste their time looking for me."

"And what about school?"

Here, Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't really need it. I'm sure I can get by without it." Charlie didn't believe a word of it and kept staring. Harry's shoulders drooped. "It's not like anyone will miss me. Gryffindors won't speak to me because I'm Slytherin and Slytherins won't even acknowledge me because I'm the boy-who-lived, the one who killed Voldemort. I talk to a few people in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but I don't hang out with any of them. They're all too afraid I'll pull them into social exile. You're the only one who's ever been nice to me."

Charlie didn't know what to do. He was excited that Harry wanted to work at the sanctuary, but he knew that it was important for the teen to get an education. There were hundreds of spells he hadn't learned yet, many of them useful when working with dragons. However, he knew that being shunned by his peers would not encourage any want to return. Personally, Charlie had friends from many houses, as well as a few acquaintances in Slytherin, so he had no experience in being lonely. He could figure that any sort of friendly contact, like his compliment of Harry's skills on a broom and his invitation to join him in Romania, would be twice as effective at forming an attachment to him.

"Look, Harry, I'll cut you a deal."

Harry stiffened. "I'm not going back there."

"Just hear me out. I promise that you'll have a spot on the team here, if you still interested, but there's a condition." When Harry didn't say anything, Charlie continued. "There are spells you'll need to keep yourself safe when you work with dragons. If you quit school and start now, you'll be in too much danger to be useful." Charlie could see the wheels turning in the teen's head.

"I see." Harry looked up at him. "And what if I decided to not go to school anyway?"

"Well, good luck finding a well-paying job in the Wizarding World. As far as I know, you'd be hard-pressed to find a job in the Muggle World without any education either."

Harry was silent for a few minutes. Charlie held his breath, wondering what the Slytherin was thinking.

"So if I go back to Hogwarts and finish my last three years, you'll guarantee a spot here?"

"Yes."

"Can I at least stay here until mid-August? My relatives are on vacation in Aruba."

Charlie laughed. "No problem. Let's get your trunk in the tent and get some food in you. I've seen string with more bulk than you."


	15. Blue

015.

Blue

"What's your favorite color, Charlie?" Harry felt the scratch of stubble on his forehead as he tilted his head back to look at the red-head. Charlie lounged against a smooth-sided boulder, Harry neatly spooned in his lap and his knees bracketed by the older man's.

"Hmm…that's an interesting question. I haven't really thought about it."

Harry turned so he was chest-to-chest with the dragon-keeper. "Well, what about red? It's a Gryffindor color."

"Nah, see too much of it when I go to The Burrow." Harry opened his mouth but Charlie cut him off. "And it's not gold either. Reminds me of Galleons and having possession of those will get you robbed here in Romania."

"Green?"

"Nope. Your eyes are pretty--don't scowl at me--, but Goblins are not."

"Yellow?"

"Hufflepuff."

"Oh."

"Quite."

"Blue?"

Charlie considered it. "Well, the lakes are blue, and I love to swim. The sky's blue and I love to watch the dragons fly about freely, not to mention playing quidditch." Charlie nodded. "I think blue may just be my color of choice. Do you know why?"

Harry frowned. "You just told me."

"Not the real reason, I didn't." Charlie allowed his hands to creep south of Harry's belt. "My eyes are a fantastic sapphire. What's not to love?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're so bloody full of yourself."

The red-head's eyes gleamed as his hands pulled Harry's zipper down. "Would you like to be full of me, too?"


	16. Purple

016.

Purple

Charlie rarely came home to The Burrow. The reserve in Romania was so secluded that it took a lot of time and effort just to get to a floo station. The Burrow was just as he'd remembered it. The yard was cluttered and weeds grew rampant. Gnomes had taken a liking to the backyard and he remembered spending countless hours throwing them over the back fence. They always came back, but not for a good day or two.

It was much too quiet. Charlie frowned. With school out, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny should be running all over the place and causing havoc with messy games of quidditch. There wasn't a single peep coming from within. No one came to answer the door when he knocked. He pushed the door in slowly, his wand out and a curse on his lips to fire at a moment's notice.

"Hello? Is anybody home? Guys, its Charlie!" Footsteps creaked on the first floor landing and Charlie looked up quickly, wand aimed. Ginny stepped around the corner and Charlie immediately saw that she was crying. "Ginny, what happened? What's wrong?" His sister nearly flew down the stairs and burrowed into his traveling cloak. "Ginny? Is everybody alright?"

Ginny shook her head and sniffed loudly. Her voice was muffled as she spoke. "We went to pick up Harry today. It was horrible, Charlie! His relatives are monsters!"

Charlie's heart eased, glad that none of his family members were hurt, but his stomach dropped. Something had happened to Harry? "Ginny, what are you saying?"

"Mum and Ron went to pick up Harry from his relatives this morning. When they came back, Mum was screaming for someone to get a hold of Madam Pomphrey. I've never seen Ron look so pale before, not even when the twins turned his toy into a spider. Charlie, Harry's got so many bruises and cuts. It looks like someone beat him." Ginny pulled her face out of his cloak long enough to show him her crumpled expression. "Madam Pomphrey isn't sure if he'll wake up!"

The two siblings headed up to the first floor together. Ginny lead Charlie to the only open door. Inside, Charlie's younger siblings, minus Percy, were gathered around the end of the extra twin bed in the room. His parents sat on either side of Harry's head. His Mum ran her fingers through Harry's hair gently and held onto his right hand. His Pa sat quietly, like he always did when one of his kids were hurt.

"Mum, Charlie's here." His Mum looked up, surprised.

"Oh, Charlie, I completely forgot you were coming home today! I'm so sorry, but when we found Harry like this, everything else just flew right out of my head."

"It's alright, Mum. Taking care of Harry when he's hurt is much more important than answering the door. What happened?"

His Mum's face crumpled. Charlie realized just how much like her Ginny was going to turn out to be. "Oh, it was terrible, Charlie! Those monsters had him locked in a cupboard under the stairs! There was so much blood I thought he'd died! Those horrid muggles didn't even bat an eye at his appearance! All they cared about was getting us out of the house as quickly as possible!"

Charlie took in Harry's appearance. The boy was very pale, and while the blood had been washed off, bruises covered large portions of his body. He could see that some were older than others, already turning a sick greenish-yellow. There were a few, however, that went very deep and were fresh. They covered his arms and face in large, dark purple patches.

His wand came out once more as he turned on his heel and headed out. He ignored his Mum's cries for his to stop, anger fueling his steps. Charlie liked a lot of things: dragons, quidditch, the feeling of spring's first grass between his bare toes.

Charlie didn't like the color purple. Not when muggles made it.


	17. Brown

017.

Brown

It was times like this that made Harry glad they'd gotten the medium-stained oak headboard. Really, the lighter stain had been pretty as well, but his hands, pale from being concealed in dragon hide gloves all of the time, didn't contrast with the pale wood as he gripped it mid-coitus. Charlie had wanted the headboard that was painted black (like his hair, he'd said), but Harry's hands were _so_ light it looked like he was gripping shadows. Frankly, that thought disturbed him (he was trying to _avoid_ any comparisons to good and evil while he was in the bedroom) and the two of them settled on the medium stain.

Honestly, there was nothing Harry enjoyed more than following the interesting grain pattern of the ancient oak mindlessly while his body was ruthlessly pounded into the mattress. He especially loved to run his fingers over the intricate carvings as he recovered from one of Charlie's soul-sucking kisses. Harry often wondered if Charlie was really a dementor in disguise, but then he'd realize exactly what he'd done with the supposed Dementor!Charlie, get the willies, and push the thought to the back of his mind once more.

Long fingers brushing against his thigh had his attention back in the world of the living and he reached above his head to grip the headboard once more.


	18. Black

018.

Black

Charlie rubbed at one small ear of the black kitten sitting on his chest. Tiny rumbling purrs vibrated the furry body. One emerald eye opened to stare at him.

"I don't know why you stay like this, Harry. It's not as if your…new attachments are the sign of the apocalypse or something. I happen to find them a bit kinky." Razor sharp claws dug into his skin. He hissed when one caught him on a nipple. "Easy on the claws, green eyes!"

The small kitten jumped off of him, changing into a human mid leap. Harry glared at him, his hands clamped on his head. "These ears are NOT kinky! They're abnormal!" Harry huffed when he saw that Charlie's gaze had fallen south of his belt. "Would you stop ogling my arse and listen to me?!"

Charlie's blue eyes jerked up to meet his, a strange expression on his face. "Harry, you should probably stop changing into a cat for awhile…at least until we can speak to someone at Hogwarts."

"Why?" Harry yelped when Charlie reached behind him and, instead of copping a feel, pulled lightly on something. "What in the bloody hell is-" Harry held the slender black tail in his left hand, staring dumbly at it. He tugged on it and hissed at the pain erupting from above his arse. "Is this a tail?!"

Charlie ran a finger through the silky fur on the twitching appendage. "Never mind what I said about talking to someone. I like this new look." A sharp pain in his hand proved that, not only was the tail a new carry over from Harry's animagus form, so were his claws. "We'll need to get those removed before we have sex again."

"Fuck you, Charlie."

"I'll take that as an invitation."


	19. White

019

White

"Come on, Harry, just one game."

Harry ignored the pleading red-head and turned to the next page of his quidditch magazine. Long fingers carded through his hair and he fought back the delightful shiver the wanted to travel down his spine. "I'm not playing chess with you, Charlie. You play as dirty as Ron."

"I hope that chess is the only thing Ron does dirty around you. I'd hate to have to kill my own baby brother." The fingers snuck down the collar of his shirt and pinched a nipple. "I promise to be white this time if you play."

Harry put down the magazine and stared into blue eyes, unfazed by the bribes, both verbal and physical. "It isn't a matter of what color you are. You've been both and have somehow managed to warp the game into a strange version of strip poker and twister." Harry ignored the innocent expression he was given and raised an eyebrow. "How do you manage to do that?"

Charlie disentangled himself from the younger Gryffindor with a rakish wink. His hopes of another game shot down, he pulled out his wand and tapped it playfully against Harry's forehead.

"It's called magic, you silly thing."


	20. Colorless

020.

Colorless

Harry stared at the stone in fascination. "And you found this while you were in Nevada?" He barely registered Charlie's response, enthralled with the gem in front of him. For the most part it was just an ugly, clear stone, and if he hadn't known better he would have said it was a diamond, but the sunlight the reflected off of the surface told him otherwise. A multitude of colors danced across the many flat edges, its uncut appearance making it that much more amazing.

Something flickered with in the stone, but a voice right next to his ear distracted him from looking closer.

"Harry, are you alright?"

The black-haired man looked up into blue eyes. "I'm sorry, what? I didn't hear you."

Charlie just rolled his eyes and smacked Harry across the back of his head. "I thought Ron was addle-brained from birth, but maybe he caught it from you." The red-head ducked the fist that came his way with a laugh and danced a few paces back. "So I guess you like the stone from the expression on you face."

"Definitely, I've never seen anything like it. What's it called?"

"It's an opal. When we weren't busy learning about American techniques for dragon wrangling, the boys and I headed to one of the mines nearby. We were allowed to dig for ourselves for a fee and we managed to find some nice pieces. That's a multi-colored variety."

"Now I wish I would've ditched that quidditch match and stowed away with you. It sounds like fun." Without realizing it, Harry had started rolling the opal between his hands.

Charlie laughed and pulled Harry into a hug. "Well, we'll be going again next year. The Americans don't use floo anymore, said something about it being too dirty, so we had to take an _aero-plain_. The trip can get rather expensive that way, but if you apprentice with us until then, the ministry will pay for your ticket as well." The red-head's hands, roamers that they were, had already plucked Harry's belt from his trousers and were working on the button. "And, we can so much more _quality _time together." His eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Harry grinned and pulled back, dancing away on tip-toe. He set the beautiful stone on the little table near the entrance of the tent and sent an eyebrow-waggle of his own over his shoulder. "That sounds like a good plan, but I may need a bit more _convincing_." Charlie set out to do just that.

Neither man noticed the colorless center of the opal flicker, the whole gem glowing brightly as it sat on the table.


	21. Friends

021.

Friends

"You know he loved you very much, right?"

Harry clutched a pillow against his chest harder, pushing back the tears _(screams, despair, anger) _that threatened to burst out. "Yes, Remus, I know."

"You shouldn't blame yourself. There was nothing you could do."

_'If I hadn't been so hurt when he called me James, I would've seen Bellatrix's attack and I could've warned him.'_ Harry bit off the last remaining fingernail on his left hand. "I know."

* * *

He was in the attic now, away from the pitying looks and he statements of sympathy. Harry knew they were worried about him. Whether it was worry that he would harm himself in his grief or worry that he would go off the deep end and kill everyone else he had yet to figure out. He supposed it was a little of both.

Ron and Hermione were the least wary of him, but the growing interest between the two of them kept them busy elsewhere. Harry didn't mind the solitude and encouraged their relationship.

Dust floated around him, clinging to his skin. The smell of a large bird, long gone know, stuck in his nose. Buckbeak had been moved somewhere else when Siriusdied. Dumbledore had moved him into Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for the summer and Harry wasn't happy about it. Last summer he would've been jumping for joy at the chance to stay here, but now it just served as a reminder of what he had lost.

Footsteps on the stairs broke the silence that had built up heavily in the attic. Harry ignored whoever it was that showed up, not wanting anymore sympathy. Warm, bare arms wrapped around him from behind and a pair of muscled, leather-clad legs pressed against his own. Harry dug his face into his knees.

"You missed dinner again."

Harry grunted and burrowed back into the hard chest behind him. A chin came to rest on the top of his head.

"Mum set aside a plate for you, in case you came down tonight." Hands rubbed his torso, feeling the hard edges of ribs and the loss of muscle in his abdomen. "He wouldn't have wanted you to do this to yourself, Harry. Don't mourn his death, remember all the good memories you have of him."

Harry twisted his head around to look into Charlie's blue eyes. There was no sympathy, no pity in them. Just understanding. "I killed him, you know."

"Maybe you did, maybe you didn't. Either way, he shouldn't be forgotten. Wouldn't the best way to atone for your sin, real or not, be to never let his memory die?" When Harry didn't say anything, Charlie stood up and dragged Harry with him. "Come on, we need to fatten you up. There's no way you're going to beat Malfoy in quidditch if you're skin and bones. You'll be snapped like a twig."

"I was banned from quidditch by Umbridge."

Charlie looked back at him, startled. "Oh, I didn't know that." He brightened. "Well, then you need to beef up so you can join me at the reserve. You graduate in a couple of years, so we'll have to work quickly."

"You're still going on about me working on the reserve? What makes you think I'm even considering it? I was thinking about becoming an auror."

"Nonsense! We need all the talent we can get on a broom to wrangle the airborne dragons. They're hard as hell to hit from the ground. Besides, you'd be going to waste working for the ministry."

Harry smiled a bit as he was dragged down to the kitchen. "Charlie?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

Charlie shot him a grin. "No problem, mate."


	22. Enemies

022.

Enemies

Charlie signaled the Romanian twins, Alin and Anton, to head around behind the target. The two men nodded and crept through the long grass. On his other side, two other Romanians, were already moving into position. The five men crouched down around the small copse of trees. Smoke filtered through the branches, and deep snuffling sounds echoed around the field.

'_We're in position above you, Charlie. It's your signal.'_ Charlie nodded to show he'd heard and crept forward into his own spot. He cancelled the selective sonorous spell and shot a single ball of white light into the air. The four men on brooms swooped down and began to fire off stunning spells into the trees. A loud roar sounded and the wind picked up and a pair of black wings became visible.

A small dragon, about the size of a Clydesdale, flapped its wings and fluttered out of its hiding place. The men on the ground moved forward, firing their own stunning spells. The little dragon squeal in surprise, not anticipating ground troops. Charlie shot a binding spell at the dragon's muzzle, but silver claws, as sharp as obsidian, cut through it.

A blue ball of light exploded in the air, distracting the dragon and the humans took advantage of it, simultaneously firing binding spells at their target. The dragon lost its balance and tipped forward, narrowly avoiding a large tree stump with its head. Charlie trotted forward, followed by his partners, and stopped in front of the dragon's head.

He pulled out a potion bottle, about the size of a milk jug, and popped the top. The dragon's green eyes widened at the sight of it and he wriggled around, trying to get free.

"No, no, little one. You bitch about a cold, I'm going to fix it." Charlie ignored the puffs of hot smoke shooting out of the dragon's nostrils and lifted his head. He pried open his jaws and poured the whole bottle down his throat.

The dragon's ears shot out steam, thanks to the pepper-up potion (strong enough for dragons, of course) and the humans around him heaved a sigh of relief when he settled down. The dragon's body began to shrink, it's black scales lightening and turning to flesh. The ropes around him slackened and fell to the ground around a now human Harry Potter.

"There now, Harry, was that so bad?"

Green eyes glared at him and the younger Gryffindor levered himself into a crouching position. Harry's hands brushed trough the grass and Charlie had to quickly dodge the stone that was hurled at his head.

"You're sleeping on the couch for the rest of the month." Harry stalked back to the camp, ignoring the chuckles of the Romanians around him.

Charlie kicked at the ground. "Bloody Hell."


	23. Lovers

023.

Lovers

Harry concentrated on Charlie's left nipple while his hand played connect-the-dots with the copper freckles sprinkled on the older man's chest. His fingers caught in a snag of chest hair and Harry looked up to see if the other would wake. Charlie's eyes stayed firmly shut and Harry resumed his playing. Charlie's nipple had his teeth marks around it, still red from the night before. He noticed that, for as many freckles that littered Charlie's body like so many fallen soldiers, his nipples were devoid of them, except for one small dot just below the peak of the left one.

He rubbed his finger tip across that little copper dot a few times, enjoying the way the small movements made the nub right above it dance back and forth a bit. Harry flicked a fingernail across the tip of it, watched as it hardened, and started violently when a larger, rougher hand grabbed his. He looked up to see Charlie's blue eyes open just a crack, only enough for the red-head to see clearly.

"Good morning, Charlie," Harry whispered, stretching to plant a kiss on the man's lips. His tongue swiped along the seam and Charlie opened his mouth to allow him access. The red-head bent his head down to take command of the kiss and fought Harry's tongue back into his own mouth. The two of them pulled apart when air became needed and Charlie hooked one leg over Harry's as they panted.

"How long have you been awake, Harry?"

"I'd guess about twenty minutes. The sun hasn't risen yet, though, so I don't really know for sure."

Charlie just groaned and pulled the covers higher. "I'm going back to sleep. It's one of our only days off during the year and I'll be damned if I spend it waking up before the dragons. I suggest you do the same, Merlin-incarnate. Our next vacation isn't until Christmas." With a small peck to Harry's forehead, Charlie burrowed into the thick blankets and was lost to dreamland before he'd taken two breaths.

Harry just snuggled into the Charlie-lump and joined him in sleep.

* * *

It was Harry who was woken up by a caress this time, though instead of a nipple it was his stomach. Rough fingers probed his belly button and rubbed along his midsection as a hot mouth sucked on his inner thigh. Harry popped open an eye to see the mass of blankets on top of him shift, then slammed it closed again when a warm hand closed on his half-hard cock. He hissed in delight, the sibilance of Parseltongue evident, and was rewarded with a wet tongue caressing the crease of skin connecting his thigh to his hip. Harry snaked his hands downward to tangle his fingers in Charlie's messy ginger hair and tried to tug the older man into prime blow-job position. Charlie only chuckled and suckled on a nipple. His face appeared from underneath the edge of the blankets, chin resting on Harry's breastbone. Harry opened his eyes again to look at his partner and leaned his head forward to accept a heated kiss.

"Good morning, Harry." Charlie twisted his hand gently as it pumped his cock, eliciting a groan from the black-haired man beneath him. His head disappeared under the blanket and Harry felt the sinful hot tongue slide along his chest to his stomach where it swirled in his navel.

"Charlie, damn it! Don't tease me so early in- UNGH!" Harry grunted and his eyes rolled back as a his cock was engulfed to the root in one swoop. Charlie's throat muscles fluttered around the head, his tongue pressed against the thick vein on the underside. Harry tried to control his breathing, keeping it slow and smooth, but then Charlie backed off until just the tip of his cock was in his mouth and he _sucked_.

"Sonofabitch! Oh, Merlin! Charlie, don't stop!" Harry's hands, still buried in the red-head's hair, pulled none too gently. Charlie liked it when he was rough occasionally and rewarded the younger man with a hum.

Without warning, Charlie deep-throated him again and swallowed around his cock, managing to get the head down his throat. He hummed again, with increased volume and varying pitch and Harry stiffened as his came, toes stretching out so far that, if he'd been of able mind, he'd wonder why they didn't popped right off.

Harry panted as his heart calmed down. Charlie slid up to lay next to him and planted a kiss on his cheek before locking onto his lips. Harry tasted himself on the older man's tongue and groaned as his cock gave an interested twitch. He looked up into the red-head's blue eyes and sucked one of Charlie's fingers into his mouth. Charlie's eyes darkened and he licked his lips as he watched Harry suck like it was a matter of life and death. Harry let go of the digit with a pop.

"Your turn."


	24. Family

024.

Family

Harry tuned out his captain's how-could-we-have-lost-that-match speech and studied his hands. The scar he received from Umbridge's blood quill was still visible, but a scar caused by an angry kneazel kitten covered most of it up.

"Potter, are you listening to me?"

Harry barely looked up from his perusal to answer. "Yes, Wainswright. I should've stepped up my game and gotten the snitch while we were a hundred points ahead. I feel thoroughly chastised. May I go now?"

Wainswright was a man that reminded Harry of Oliver Wood. 'Do not take Quidditch lightly' was the cardinal rule to them. The man narrowed his eyes at the star seeker and grunted. "Fine, but I want you on the pitch at the ass crack of dawn come Monday, you hear?"

Harry gave him a quick, mocking salute and jogged out of the locker room before her could change his mind. He planned on going to his nearly empty apartment and get a bit of shut-eye, but his feet carried him to the nearby pub instead. The interior was decorated for the holidays and Harry caught sight of the tiny fairies floating around the pine trees.

Most of the patrons were decked out in the bright orange of the Chudley Cannons, Harry's newest team, but a few brave Harpies fans sat toward the back of the place, happy grins on their faces. Harry made his way to the bar, avoiding eye contact with anyone and trying very hard not to draw attention to himself. A few Cannons fans looked up at him as he passed, but they were too drunk to sit without swaying on their chairs, let alone acknowledge him. He hopped onto an empty stool at the bar and requested firewhiskey with a nod of his head. He was a regular at this particular pub and all the bartenders knew that he preferred to keep a low profile and he preferred firewhiskey. The bartender tonight, a huge, muscled man everyone called 'Meat', slid a mug down the bar without looking while he turned to shoo away an over-drunk wizard.

Harry took a swig of his drink and swallowed with a content sigh before examining the other patrons closely. Most of them were unfamiliar, out-of-towners who would portkey back to their homes come morning, but the regulars who were too stubborn to stay away post-game were lined along the bar like Harry. In the sea of orange, away from the Harpies fans, there was a shock of familiar red hair and a flash of dark dragonhide. Harry peered closer, almost wondering if Ron had snuck into town without telling him, but the cut was all wrong; too shaggy. Which Weasley was it then?

Harry picked up his whiskey and weaved through the drunk fans, ignoring catcalls and pinches. The Weasley had his back to him and Harry was forced to circle around the table like a half-wit. The red-head looked up when he walked into sight and a broad grin spread across his face.

"Well if it isn't Harry!" The Weasley made sure to keep his voice below the din of other, louder conversations. "Mum'll be glad to know I ran into you."

Without really thinking about it, Harry sat down in the chair opposite. "Erm, I'm sorry, but which one are you?"

"Ah! My heart doth aches at the thought that I'm so easily forgotten! But, alas, I suppose it has been a few years since you've seen me." The other man held out a hand. "I'm the extraordinary Charlie, second eldest of the Weasley brood."

Harry shook the offered hand. "You're the one that works with dragons, right?" At Charlie's nod, Harry leaned forward. "What's it like, working with them?"

"Oh, it's entertaining, that's for sure. Never a dull moment around the reserve. One of the rules is: If it's too quiet, there's a dragon behind you." The two chuckled and nursed their drinks. "So what are you doing in a tiny pub like this when I know that you've got you own liquor collection at your posh apartment? It said so in the celebrity edition of Wonderful Wizarding Homes."

"I'm a regular at this place. I only use the 'liquor collection' when I have guests, mostly the team on victory nights."

"And how are the Cannons treating you?"

"Well, I suppose. They're a bit bummed now that they know I'm able to miss the snitch at a crucial part of the game."

"The God hath fallen from his throne. It's always a bit disappointing to find your hero is every bit as human as you are."

Harry snorted. "How is everyone?"

"They're a bit upset that you didn't come over for Christmas last year."

"I know they wanted me there, but I was traded to Australia for a while and the coach wouldn't let me leave and-"

"Whoa, Harry, you don't have to defend yourself to me. I wasn't there either. Save the explanations for Mum when she's beating you over the head with an oven mitt. If it's good enough, you can save yourself from an ear boxing." The two men stood up, drinks finished. "I'd better get back to the Burrow. Mum'll have kittens if I'm any later. Make sure you show up tomorrow, yeah? She worries about you." Harry nodded.

* * *

Harry stared at the front door to the Burrow apprehensively. There was a wreath hung haphazardly, but it was well made and even the bow (with help from magic) looked nice. The sounds of laughter and clattering dishes echoed out of a partially open window and Harry heard the lower pitched timber of Charlie. Out of all of the Weasley boys, Charlie's was the deepest. Steeling himself, Harry raised his hand and knocked solidly on the wood door.

Ron's familiar gait grew louder as the red-head came to the door and, as it was flung open, Harry was greeted with the typical Weasley welcome.

"Well it's about damn time you got here! Mum's been wearing a hole in the carpet waiting for you. Made me right dizzy." Harry was ushered inside. Almost immediately his vision was filled with red hair and copper freckles as the six Weasley sons descended on him. Percy managed to give him a quick handshake before the older boy was bowled to the side by the twins. He warily accepted their double hug, patting himself down for pranks as soon as he was free. The twins spluttered in mock indignation while the others shared a laugh. Ron pulled him into a hug as well and Harry gladly returned the gesture. He'd missed his best friend.

"Alright, alright, that's enough you two. You can share man-hugs later, but Mum's getting awful anxious to see her 'precious' Harry again." Charlie hooked an arm around Harry's waist while Bill wrapped one around his shoulders. The six red-heads escorted Harry to the kitchen like a VIP, each man pretending that Harry was a prince from a foreign country, protecting him from the numerous family photos spread about. Percy, with an uncharacteristic grin that made Harry think he was just a bit drunk, entered the kitchen first and announced the 'royalty'.

"Wonderful ladies and esteemed gentlemen, I present Harry Potter, seeker for the awful Chudley Cannons."

Harry was pulled out of the pack of Weasley sons and crushed in Mrs. Weasley's embrace. The woman was crying a bit, Harry noticed uneasily, and he looked around for help. No one looked eager to get between the Weasley matriarch and her 'baby'.

"Oh, Harry, it's good to see you. I was so worried when you didn't show up for the holidays last year! What kind of horrible man doesn't allow a boy to go home to see his family?" Molly back off to run a scrutinizing eye over him. "Have you been getting enough to eat, dear? You seem thinner than the last time I saw you." The men in the room rolled their eyes collectively. Molly said that to all of them.

Once Molly calmed down and Harry finished greeting everyone else at the Burrow: Fleur, Hermione, Ginny and Dean Thomas, Arthur, Remus, Tonks, Teddy, and Tonks' parents, everyone sat down at the huge dinning table. Conversations all melted together, creating a pleasant buzz in the air. Harry fought off pokes and pinches and kicks from the Weasley boys and distracted Molly from over filling his plate. Charlie, who had the seat right next to him, leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Aren't you glad you came? It's great to be together with family." Harry turned and nodded his agreement.

"_Hey you two, quit snogging and pass the taters!"_


	25. Strangers

025.

Strangers (Sequel to Purple)

It had been relatively easy to break into the Dursley's house. So easy, in fact, that if he had been thinking clearly he'd have been worried about it. As is was, the red-head only had thoughts about deep purple bruises on innocent skin. A man with a walrus mustache, Harry's uncle, spluttered angrily at him, red faced as his wife, a horse-faced woman, paled dramatically at the sight of his wand drawn and aimed at them. A boy around Harry's age waddled in from the kitchen. When Charlie's aim moved to include him, he squealed frightfully and tired to huddle behind his mum.

"W-what are you doing here?" Mr. Dursley's eyes flicked to Charlie's hair nervously. "Your kind already came and took the boy off of our hands. Go find them if you want to see the little cretin."

"_Harry_," Charlie stressed, "is at my home, covered in bruises." The red-head watched the family pause in sickened realization. "Oh, yes, I know exactly what you did to the poor kid."

"The mongrel didn't get anything he didn't deserve." The man drew himself up, confident. "I nearly lost my job because of his ruddy freakishness. He made Pet's delicious pudding land on my boss's wife."

"That was more than likely accidental magic, you pompous bastard. He's just a child and doesn't have the control over his magic like adults do."

"DO NOT speak that word in my house!" The muggle's face was growing redder by the minute.

"What, magic?" Charlie, much like the twins, sometimes didn't know when to quit. "Magic, magic, magic."

With a bellow, Harry's uncle stampeded at the second oldest Weasley. Charlie side-stepped the angry man and, with a shout of his own, fired a spell at the vast back. Harry's aunt shrieked as her husband morphed smaller and smaller, until he was hidden under a puddle of clothes left behind. The clothes shifted as a muffled squeal and a pink snout emerged. The pot bell pig, formerly Mr. Dursley, snorted threateningly at Charlie and trotted over to his wife, placing himself protectively in front of her and his son.

Charlie was sorely tempted to change the aunt and cousin as well, but the law and his mother's wrath stopped him. Still, he couldn't help taunting the distraught family.

"I daresay that this is an improvement. I'd tell you not to worry, since this spell is only temporary, but I tend to make spells permanent when I'm angry." Transfiguring Harry's uncle gave him enough time to calm down and he abandoned his plan to make they boy's relatives pay. They weren't worth it. Without another word, Charlie turned on his heel and left the dreary place, ignoring angry pig squeals and the hysterics inside the house. The Dursleys were strangers to him, Harry didn't like to talk about them much and Charlie hadn't really been around the boy enough to really hold a conversation anyway, but the red-head was sure he never wanted to get to know them.

Dreadful people, them.


	26. Teammates

026.

Teammates

Charlie watched as Harry was propositioned by another drunk-as-a-skunk female dragon wrangler. The annual dragon migration was over and the teams were celebrating with bathtub whiskey. They had about four days 'rest', in which paperwork and tent maintenance would finally get done, before they'd have to start separating the single male dragons who weren't lucky enough to get a mate this year away from the others.

Harry was obviously uncomfortable with the size D rack shoved in his face and Charlie sauntered over to lend his assistance. He slid an arm around the younger man's shoulders and addressed the drunken wrangler.

"Back off Anca. He bats for the same team."

Anca huffed, unimpressed. "You always take the good looking newbies, Charlie. Leave some for us women."

"I can't help that I'm so damn appealing, Anca." The woman stomped off and Charlie threw a grin at Harry. It faltered at the glare the other gave him. "What?"

"Thanks a lot, Charlie. Now I'm never going to get laid. I'm going to die a virgin."

"Please, you were terrified. If that's how you go about picking up chicks, prepubescent boys are going to score before you." Harry blushed but his glare intensified. Charlie leaned in and ghosted his lips over the younger man's. "Besides, who said you're never going to get any?"


	27. Parents

027.

Parents

Charlie could see that his mum couldn't decided which one of them to hug first, and his pa was torn on who to give the obligatory 'What are your intentions?' speech. Really, they could both get it. They were both brood, even if one of them wasn't Weasley blood.

Harry had been around often enough that he was practically family.

His mother finally made up her mind and pulled Harry into one of her infamous, crushing hugs. Charlie was treated to a pat on the shoulder and a stern look from his father that promised a lecture, maybe even multiple ones, in the near future. It was only a small consolation that Harry had to put up with it as well. His parents traded off and Charlie quickly wedged an arm between his mother and himself, hugging her gently around the shoulders with the other.

"Oh, Charlie, you don't know how happy this makes me! I was so afraid that you weren't interested in anything other than your dragons and I wouldn't get grandbabies from you. Now you've got Harry and I'll get little red-headed, green eyed babies to spoil!" The Weasley matriarch sobbed wetly into her second eldest's shirt.

"Actually, mum, they'll probably be black-haired, blue eyed babies. Besides, we're not even engaged, we're just dating at this point."

"Details. Now, since all of your brothers have moved out of the house and your sister is close to it, I expect no less than six babies to fill them when they visit. Hopefully that one-up rivalry you and your brothers have going on will kick in and everyone will try to out do each other." She trailed off, eyes distant as she imagined the Burrow teeming with grandchildren.

"Mum, pipe down! Harry doesn't even know male wizards can get pregnant." Charlie's senses tingled with a feeling of '_ohshitohshitohshit_' as he turned to look over at his boyfriend. Harry stood next to his father, eyebrows raised in shock. As stunned as he was, there was still a foreboding light in his eyes that threatened Charlie's state of manliness. His mind raced to say something to smooth over Harry's temper before it came raging out to do unimaginable things to him.

"Er…Hi there, Harry. Boy do I have a funny story to tell you…"

His father was conspicuously missing, his mother dragged to the safety of the back garden as well, when pissed!Harry made an appearance.


	28. Children

028.

Children (Sequel to Parents)

Harry and Charlie lay side by side on their bed, back in their own shared flat. It was really Harry's, but whenever Charlie had the time, he was seen there as well. A few cars drove by, causing slivers of light to travel across the ceiling. Both men were lost in their own thoughts.

Charlie was worried about where exactly he was going in this relationship with Harry. They were just dating now, but was he looking for something more with the younger man? Was Harry? He spent most of his Hogwarts years with Hagrid, learning as much as he could about magical creatures. The half-giant was only too happy to oblige and it was through one of his contacts that he first came face to face with a dragon. It was just a baby, but it was friendly to humans and didn't hesitate to nudge his hand for a pat. After that, Charlie knew what he'd be doing after Hogwarts.

Even with his fascination with dragons, he had time for a few relationships, male and female. Really, they were fuck-buddies, but Charlie treated each of them fondly and every one ended on a good note. Was he really ready to have a more permanent bond with another? Harry didn't work at the dragon reserve. Instead, he was drafted by the Cannons and, while not the most successful team in the league, the attention aimed at them because of their 'star seeker' boosted numbers in the drafting season. Everyone wanted to be on the same team as Harry Potter. Charlie wasn't sure he could let Harry throw that away to join him in Romania, but neither could he let go of his dragons.

Harry's mind didn't really want to process 'men can have babies' into his Wizarding knowledge. That morning his only fear was whether or not Molly and Arthur were going to accept the two of them. It had been a silly concern, but Harry didn't stop the relieved feeling in his chest when his parental figures gave their blessing. He had gotten an embarrassing talk with Arthur and hightailed it out of there as quickly as he could.

It was shocking that Molly fell into her 'marry off the kids mode' right away, especially concerning Charlie and him. She must be chomping at the bit for grandchildren. Fleur didn't have plans for children for quite a few years, Percy was married to his job, the twins equally so, Ron was still in his Auror training, and Ginny was too young yet. Charlie was the first one to show promise for future munchkins for Molly to spoil.

Harry snuck a glance at the red head next to him. Charlie had an arm bent; hand tucked under his head and the other was lying across his stomach. He reached over and linked his fingers with the older man's. Blue eyes met his own, questioning.

"My contract with the Cannons will be up in a few years. Will you need an apprentice anytime soon?"

"Are you kidding me? For every three apprentices we recruit, four leave. We need all the help we can get." Charlie rolled onto his side, staring at Harry seriously. "I don't want you to throw away your career for me."

Harry shrugged. "I never really planned on playing quid ditch for the rest of my life. I just joined with the Cannons to give them a popularity boost. They'll never improve if they don't get better players. For once I'm actually glad about my fame. Everyone will want to play on 'Harry Potter's old team'." Harry leaned his head into the large fingers carding thought his hair. "I'm wondering, though, if a few years is enough time to find a house in Romania and get settled in."

Charlie looked down at the younger man. "Harry, what-"

"I'm definitely not at the 'let's have kids' stage, but I'm sick of all the time we have to spend apart. I love you Charlie and I'm scared you're going to find some hot Romanian rookie while I'm gone."

"Harry, you know I'd never do that to you. You're too important to me. Besides, if I did find a hot Romanian rookie, I wouldn't abandon you. I'd just convince you to have a threesome."

The black haired man choked on a snort and slapped the red haired man on the chest. Charlie yelped at the abuse. "That's not funny, Charlie."

"You know I'm just kidding!" Charlie sighed and wrapped his arm around Harry, pulling him to his chest. "I love you, too, Harry. Way too much for me to allow a hot, nubile Romanian boy lure me into carnal desires with him." He cracked a grin when Harry finally allowed a small laugh to escape. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you about the whole 'men can have babies' issue. I forgot that Mum's been foaming at the mouth to get some grandchildren."

"It's okay. It was shock, but a good shock."

"Yeah? Does this mean you're not mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad."

"Can we have a threesome then?"

"_No_."


	29. Birth

029.

Birth

Just last week another batch of new recruits were brought in from the Chinese Dragon Reserve, one of their own reserve's sister organizations. Charlie, being himself in all his wonderful glorious selfness, proceeded to flirt with any that ranked a six or above on the 'Charlie would hit that' scale. Harry being, well, Harry, caught him making googly eyes and copping a feel and the unholy of unholy ideas was given birth.

Make Charlie _pay_.

The first step was subtle. It started off with forgetting to save Charlie a plate in the mess hall when the red head was running late and leaving the man's wet socks scrunched up in little balls where ever they landed so that they mildewed. Next, Harry stole the blankets at night. This was a normal occurrence, usually. Charlie woke up every so often to find his body frozen and Harry wrapped up in a cocoon of warmth. In this case, however, Harry woke up in the middle of the night to purposely steal them. One night he was really annoyed and took all the blankets while both of them were still awake.

That was Charlie first clue that something was up, but he wrote it up as Harry's 'moody teenager phase'. He figured the kid needed to get laid and sent over one of the recruits he wasn't trying to score with. The recruit must have been a little too enthusiastic because she ended up in the medical tent covered in feathers and vomiting slugs.

Then things started getting weird. He'd be in the middle of playing his lines, so close to getting some that evening, then his target would get a scared look on their face and run off. Charlie checked over his shoulder, but each time there was nothing there. Another time, Mei (or Li or whatever her name was) was feeding him grapes when she was pelted in the side of the head with a melon. He wasn't worried about her; she was still standing if a little woozy, but insanely curious as to where the melon came from. It wasn't normally on the menu. For some reason she took offense to his curiosity and stomped off with a huff, feet staggering every so often.

After being cock-blocked for over a week by his bad luck, Charlie was starting to feel a little strained. Some nights he'd wake up suddenly from a wet dream that felt _so real_, only to find that Harry had stolen the covers again, his pants were down around his knees and his hand was wrapped firmly around his cock, so close to finishing it was painful. Once he had a dream he was getting a sinfully wonderful blow job. He'd woken up his cock deflating, suspiciously wet, and his stomach bare of any of the usual mess that came with his wet dreams that went over the edge.

The day came when the Chinese recruits were heading back to their own reserve and Charlie watched them whisk away by portkey. There went his chances of having hot, rough, monkey sex. He had been looking forward to it, too. Harry was in better spirits, though, and he figured that at least one of them got laid.

That night, Charlie's wet dream was even more intense than ever. His cock was buried deep in hot, tight, wetness and he moaned when muscles fluttered around him. He was skirting the edge, falling over in a rush of heat. There was a moan above him and Charlie's eyes flew open to see that he was awake and he really was buried balls deep in another person. Straddling him, Harry caught his eyes as the teen fell into his own orgasm. His green eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth fell open as his whole body shuddered.

It was the hottest thing Charlie had ever seen.

When Harry finally flopped forward and rested his head on the red-head chest, Charlie gulped at the whisper that reached his ear.

"You're mine."

Charlie could live with that if the sex was always this great.


End file.
